J Roars (3 page)

******

Despite the gravity of what was going down, my mind often wandered to what Elle was doing back home. I still had a couple eyes on her who were instructed to notify me if she got hurt or if anything happened to her. I couldn't risk having too much contact with folks back home. I'd been gone long enough that I couldn't just stroll back into Missouri without Burns knowing. He had to know by now I'd cut loose and wasn't his bitch anymore. Digs was trying to get intel on how much he knew, but so far hadn't been able to turn much up. He too was a fugitive to Burns by this point. Our combined disappearance had to of made it onto Burns' radar. How hard he was looking for us was unknown, but as soon as those drugs ceased to arrive, he'd have more to worry about.

I was sitting in my shitty motel room in San Antonio, not wanting to risk staying in one of the Zetas' or Delmarco's
houses, when Dig tapped twice on my door. It was our signal, two light taps from the outside let us know it was the other one on the other side of the door. Two taps back from the person inside meant it was all good and the door was opening. I tapped back, opened the door, and let Dig in.

"Share
a buzz with a brother? You look like you could use a beer." Dig was one to cut to the chase, so his lack of hello was something I'd grown accustomed to long ago. 

"That obvious, huh?" Dig nodded. "Fuck. You got us a safe place?" I ran my hands through my hair, pulling my thoughts back to the here and now, back from the past, from E
lle, and her sweet, sweet pussy my mind had been lost in moments ago.

"Yeah
. Down the road a few blocks. We can walk, get some air." I grabbed my stuff off the little table in the corner and followed Dig outside. It was barely dark, the sun having just set. Twilight. Fuck, it was like every thought somehow circled back to Elle. She called herself a "closet Twilight fan" and made me promise to never tell anyone.

We walked into your typical dive bar, dark, seedy, and no one really paying much attention to anyone but those sitting at their table. Just what Dig and I needed. We realized that we didn't exactly fit in, what with our lack of cowboy boo
ts, belt, and hat to match. Dig dressed the typical MC part with either black riding boots or tan work boots, faded Levi's, and a variety of faded T's and henelys. I tended toward hoodies and tennis shoes, Jordans being my favorite, something Elle loved... Fuck, I had to get my fucking head straight and stop thinking about her. Not that I didn't want to, it's like my mind had no desire to be filled with thoughts of anything BUT her. I had to keep my head in the game, though, or I was gonna fuck something up.

Dig ordered us two Budweisers, the beer of choice in these parts, and two shots of Patr
ón. Elle loved Patrón...

"You look like you're fighting a war upstairs," Dig said, handing me my beer and shot. I didn't even wait for him, I downed the shot as soon as it hit my hand.

"Son out?" Dig looked at me, knowing I was changing the subject.

"Of course. I'm sure he's dick deep by now. I just hope he wrapped that bad boy up first. Last thing I need right now is some bitch claiming to be havin' his baby." Dig felt it necessary to mention this almost every night that Son was out. Despite Son insisting his dad didn't have nothing to worry about, Dig still worried. Son might find it annoying, but he was lucky t
o have someone who cared enough to give him the condom speech three to four times a week. I think I had it memorized, and could recite it to my own boy one day.

Shit, my own boy?

I chugged the first bottle of Budweiser Dig put in front of me, and promptly motioned to the bartender for two more.

Did I want kids? It always seemed so out of reach, something that wasn't even a possibility. Fuck, Elle wasn't even a possibility until just a year ago, and who the hell knew if she was going to be there for me if—no, when I got back.

"Something's on your mind, brother. Might as well just spill it so we can enjoy these beers without you being in La La Land all night."

"Fuck, Dig." I paid the bartender and told him to keep 'em coming. Handing Dig his second bottle, I
put one hand on my shoulder, and laid my head in the other. "You don't got a clue how hard it is for me to keep my head straight. I know why I'm doing this, and I know you know too. I love my brothers, but I ain't gonna lie, I fuckin' love Elle more. You gotta help me keep my shit straight. I can't be losing focus like this. She's all I can think about, and as much as I love picturing her naked body laying over mine, I need to keep my focus on this shit we got goin' down. I got a text the other night that she was out clubbin' and it took everything I had not to race back to Missouri. I know I'd ruin this whole plan we've worked so hard for, but the thought was heavy on my mind. Even heavier when my contact texted that she was leaving the club with her friend and a couple of guys. I feel like I'm losing my mind sometimes."

Dig assessed me while he finished off
his first beer, and then took his shot. We sat in silence for a moment, me having said my piece, and Dig doing what he did—deciding what approach to take. I'd seen him do it with Son a million times, but more recently with the various shot callers we'd been dealing with. He knew how to read people and planned his approach based on what he read. It's what made him the successful negotiator he was, and was one of his ways of keeping control. It annoyed the fuck out of Son, but that was kids. At twenty, it would have irritated me too. We all drove our parents nuts, and they made us crazy at some point. I was out of parents, grandparents, and pseudo-grandparents, so I waited patiently to see what Dig was gonna drop on me.

"You still got the ring?" he finally asked.

Damn. I fished into my pants pocket and pulled out Gram's ring. Setting it gently in the middle of the table, I looked up to Dig for some guidance, some words of wisdom—fuck, anything.

"You gonna put it on her the minute this shit's done?"

"Hope to." I clutched my shoulder tighter, missing Gramps.

Dig was silent again. Maybe there wasn't going to be any wisdom dropping today.
He leaned forward in his chair. "J, I've known you since you were barely sixteen, running off and coming to St Louis. I've seen the women you ran with before Ratchet was killed. I also know you were just a boy then. Now, you're a man. What is it about this one that gets your head so twisted?"

"Fuck, man, everything. She's different from any chick I've ever known.
There's no frontin' with her. She gives you the real deal, or nothing at all, but she doesn't fake shit, at least not with me."

A rumbling laugh came from deep within Dig.

"Not like that, asshole. I mean when she's with me, she's Elle, no one else. No pretending, no pretenses, no bullshit. When I'm with her, even before she knew about my fucked up life, I felt free with her, like I too could be real, not have to act a certain way. It was so easy." I laughed as I remembered something she told me once. "I told her being with her was effortless and she told there was a trilogy of books written about that."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"I have no fucking idea, brother," I laughed. "That's why I love her, cuz I never know what's gonna come outta that mouth of hers." Dig opened his mouth, but I cut him off. "Shut it, man. You know what I mean. Don't think, let alone say, anything like what I know was in your nasty fucking mind. And you wonder why Son's such a whore."

"Fuck you, brother." We both laughed and
ordered another round of shots. "You think she'll say yes? To the ring I mean?" He did his shot without waiting for me again.

I cracked my neck and pondered the question. It was killing me being away from her, but I knew I had to be smart about this. I didn't want her anymore mixed up in this shit that she already was with José lurking around.

"I think so, but, fuck, I don't know. I don't fucking know, and that's what has my head a mess." I did my shot on that note.

"I imagine your Gramps would tell you if it's meant to be, it will be, right?"

I nodded, unable to form words. That's exactly what Gramps would say, and although I appreciated Dig's concern and the fact that he must've listened to all my Gramps' stories, his comment mostly just made me sad. It
had
to be, I couldn't imagine a life without Elle in it. I couldn't imagine anyone else understanding me, my life, my past, and all the shit I was currently knee deep in. She knew the streets, she got it, the crazy twists and turns of my life.

"Dig, when it comes to personality, you're about as far from Gramps as possible, but when it comes to heart, you're one in the same. Thanks. I needed a bit of Gramps."

"Anytime, brother. Now, why don't you grab that ring, and let's get out of here. We got eyes on us."

I tilted my head, giving him the WTF look. It was so slight, one might miss it if not looking, but Dig nodded his head toward two guys sitting across the bar. Both turned away as soon as I looked at them. I grabbed the ring and threw a tip on the table.

"Let's take a walk," Dig told me as soon as we made it out of the bar.

We strolled, yep strolled, like we were just two fellas headed to our next stop of the night. It didn't take long for us to realize the eyes had turned to a tail, and
it was in the form of two guys trailing behind us a good hundred feet.

"What do you wanna do?" I asked Dig, seeing as he was usually the one with a plan. He didn't disappoint.

"Split up. Chances are, they'll split up too. You ever lost a tail?" I nodded, I had avoided being seen at a hospital for two weeks, I was pretty sure I could lose a fucker in the heart of San Antonio. "When you get back to the hotel, stay in your room until you hear me tap, alright?"

I patted him on the back and shook his hand, making it look like we were parting ways for the night. Sure enough, as soon as I broke away from Dig, my tail was down to one guy, the other probably following Dig. I walked for a few blocks, once again strolling. There were plenty of bars to choose from, but I made it a point to move away from the hotel versus towards it.
I stopped into a corner store, and bought a pack of smokes. I wasn't really a cigarette smoker, but I'd have one now and again. It served as a distraction while I moseyed down the sidewalk—or it helped distract my tail from knowing I was far from moseying, as my every move was strategic.

I stopped on a corner and finished the cigarette, looking back and forth between two bars. Which one to go in? It didn't matter, the outcome would be the same, but I needed it to look like I was debating where to go. After what felt like an appropriate amount of time deciding, I headed in to one, asking the bartender straight away for a Budweiser and telling him I was gonna piss. I did piss, as those other beers and shots were ready to come out, but I was giving time for whoever was following me to pick where he was going to try and hide. Fucker. I'd be the one hiding. In this game of cat and mouse, he may have thought he was the ca
t, but asshole was totally the mouse.

The bathroom was in back of the bar, providing me a glance at the seating arrangement before I had to make my move. It couldn't have been more perfect. I could see the guy who'd been following me, dark hair, dark tanned skin, and a scar across his left cheek that would make his face impossible for one to forget were he in a lineup. I looked to the right at the bar area, and felt a whoosh of air to my left. A kid, probably the bar back, came through a back door with a bucket of ice. Before the door could close, I slipped though it. I saw a back door to the outside and thanked the universe for setting this up. As soon as I ducked out the back, I made a run
for it, jogging down alleys in the direction of the hotel.  I didn't go as the crow flies, but instead made a number of turns, taking two steps forward and one step back before finally arriving at the hotel.

Dig had gotten us
rooms in the back, each having their own door. I slipped inside, confident there was no way the guy trailing me had seen me cut out of the bar, but peeking out the curtains every few minutes to make sure. I waited an hour before two soft taps came on the door. I tapped back twice. I stood behind the door and when I heard two taps back, I opened it just enough to let Dig in.

"You lose him?" he asked.

"Yep. Yours?"

"Yeah, he's in a taxi towards Dallas right now." Who knows what tactics Dig had used, but I assumed they were creative, knowing how he was.

We shot the shit for an hour or so, checking out the curtain periodically. When Dig was confident we were good, he informed me he'd be checking in with the Jorge and Beto. We were supposed to leave soon to head back to Missouri for a few days, a task that required some planning to pull off. Dig was going to tell the Zetas we needed to leave as soon as possible, somebody was nosing around and that was not an option if we wanted to see this plan through.

Bright and early the next morning, I was behind a U-Haul headed back home
. It'd take us three days to make a one day ride, but we had to be careful how we got into Missouri. We were going to go around the east side of Kansas, through Nebraska, and come into Missouri though Iowa. Plus, we couldn't roll in on our bikes. We'd haul them in a U-Haul the Zetas somehow got for us, though I doubted they'd paid the company for it. They also provided an old school Chevy Blazer, complete with a driver and tinted windows to follow the U-Haul back to Missouri.